Decision
by thewibblywobblywolf
Summary: A short drabble exploring Sabo's first thoughts after being assigned his own room at Baltigo's headquarters. No pairings


**AN: Just a short drabble I wrote in honor of Sabo's birthday (today, the 20th of Mars). Enjoy~**

Sabo calmly surveyed the room he'd been assigned. The walls were the same boring grey as the stone it was made of. It was plain and scarcely furnished, a simple bed stood in a corner next to a desk with a ratty chair. An empty bookshelf stood against the opposite wall next to an equally empty dresser. The room was deeply impersonal and he had expected nothing less from the previously uninhabited living quarters he had been assigned.

The only thing that wasn't completely plain and clean was the desk. On it sat an inkwell, a quill and an empty notebook, just as he'd requested when asked if there was anything he wanted. It wasn't completely true, of course. The thing he wanted the most was to go back to Mt. Corbo and his brothers, but that was an impossibility, so he had asked for the next best thing; the means to start fulfilling his dream.

He had been so close to death, would've been dead already if it wasn't for for the miracle worker with the purple afro - Ivankov. An odd calm had settled over him ever since he was released from the medical wing. He could die at any given moment, was what he had realised during his two month stay in the most sterile part of the Revolutionary Headquarters. Anything could kill him, any day, so he better make the best of it.

He could not return to Dawn Island and so he had decided to take Dragon up on his offer. He had joined the Revolutionary Army. However he had not done so solely because he couldn't return home, no he had still had the choice of taking off on his own, or being dropped off on some strange island. But neither of those ideas appealed as greatly to him as joining the Revolutionaries anymore. He knew that he could make a difference with these strange people. With them he could work against those who enabled the Celestial Dragons in doing whatever atrocities they liked. He could help people and set the world free.

The idea appealed more to him than he had expected, but it felt right. To be able to help people find the freedom that he so very nearly had died without felt like the best choice he could make. He had yet to taste that freedom he had sought, but he had a feeling that he would feel it time and time again working for the cause he had chosen.

These people he had found… he liked them. They were growing on him quickly and he could see himself working with them quite happily in the future. They were strong as well, so much stronger than anyone else he had ever met (except maybe Garp, but he didn't count). They could help him grow stronger, Dragon had said and there was something about the man, about his intense aura and dark grin that made Sabo believe him. This man would free the world, he was sure of it.

He still missed his brothers like nothing else though, the last two months away from them had done nothing to damper that. He kept hunching over his food as if expecting someone to steal it (something his nurse had repeatedly pointed out was bad for his back), and tensed up at every strange sound, an instinct honed by years of being ready for Ace and later Luffy to sneak up on him in an attempt to scare him or for a surprise sparring match. He missed Luffy's laugh and the girn that Ace had started wearing more often. He missed the sound of their snores at night and even Luffy poking him in the back with his toes. He missed them. His eyes burned at the thought and he blinked rapidly in an effort to keep the tears from forming properly, he'd done enough crying during the last two months.

Rousing himself from his deep thoughts he finally stepped more fully into the room and Dragon - who had shown him the room personally - closed the door behind himself when he left, leaving Sabo to it. The first thing he did was approaching the desk. He climbed onto the spindly chair even as it creaked under his moderate weight and gazed out through the window behind the desk. He had a view of the sea, and somehow he didn't think it was accidental. He smiled to himself. He stood on his knees and opened the window, letting the smell of salt and sea permeate his room. He had a feeling he would come to like this place.

When he sat back down again he grabbed the quill and broke the seal on the inkwell. He could die anyday, anytime, so if he wanted to fulfill his dream he'd best get started. The tip of his quill grazed the first page. He would protect his treasure - his brothers - and he wouldn't give up on his dream, because they certainly wouldn't want that. So he would write and write and write. About every adventure, every notion, until the day he could no longer hold a quill - until the day he died. To finish his dream.

**AN: That came out a bit angstier than I'd expected. I just wanted to write something for Sabo's birthday and then this happened. I hope you didn't feel that he was out of character. I felt that the first short while before he'd gotten used to his new life without his brothers would be a bit of a dark time for him, so I feel it's justified. I hope you enjoyed it though! All feedback, both positive and negative is very welcome!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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